


Mother and Child Reunion

by victoria_p (musesfool)



Series: tumblr prompt fic [21]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Prompt Fic, Skywalker Family Drama, the skywalker family tragedy, the skywalkers have no chill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 16:26:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17511980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musesfool/pseuds/victoria_p
Summary: "I'm your mother and I will always love you, but I can't save you from this path you've chosen. Only you can do that."





	Mother and Child Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Selena in the January Journal meme and fleshed out a little from what I posted to DW. Title from Paul Simon.

The message, when it comes, doesn't come over any standard New Republic or Rebellion frequency, nor does it come on one of the old, heavily-encrypted family comms. No, it comes via the Force itself, Ben's voice in her head for the first time in years, calling for his mother.

She tells no one, though she thinks Rey suspects. She takes Artoo, because she knows the droid is smarter and more loyal than most people and more dangerous, too, though Ben never took that side of him seriously when they used to tell him stories of their adventures during the Rebellion. 

She knows the hope she nurtures is tenuous at best and probably false—Rey had said he'd chosen the dark side even after he'd killed Snoke—but she clings to it relentlessly. Tenuous hope is the only hope she's had through some of the worst times of her life, and she's not going to give it up now. Yes, he'd killed Han, and that thought sends another tidal wave of grief tearing through her heart, but he'd hesitated when it came to her. That's the thought she keeps in mind—he hadn't killed _her_ when he'd had the chance, much like Vader hadn't killed Luke, and as much as it galls her to have to make the comparison, it feels apt.

So she holds the thought in her mind as she flies off to rendezvous with her lost son, as if her will and her connection to the Force can make it a reality, if only she concentrates with every fiber of her being.

Ben's chosen meeting place is a small smuggler's outpost on the Mid-Rim; that he even remembers it gives her another flicker of hope that her son is still there beneath the anger and hate, and the Vader-like trappings he's said to wear.

He's waiting for her when she arrives; perhaps all her lessons on punctuality finally made a dent. Or, more realistically, he was already here when he sent the message.

After asking Artoo to watch her back, she leaves him in the shuttle, beeping indignantly. She strides down the gangway and pulls her jacket more tightly around herself. It's chillier than she remembers.

Her son is an adult, so different from the boy she sent to Luke so many years ago—his hair is longer and there's a scar on his face she doesn't recognize—but his features are the same, and he still vibrates with that coiled intensity that used to worry her when he was a child. 

"General Organa," he says, and his voice is low, resonant. At least he's not wearing a mask. She forces herself not to flinch and instead raises a skeptical eyebrow. He frowns and says, "Mother."

"Ben. You look well." 

"I didn't ask you here to trade inanities," he says.

"No," she says, letting some of her weariness show in her voice, "I don't suppose you did."

"Your foolish Resistance is wiped out," he says. "If you surrender to me, I will show you that I can be merciful."

"Merciful." The word tastes like ashes.

"Yes. Just hand over the Resistance, Mother—including the girl and the traitor—and I will spare your life." 

She huffs softly, hoping he'll take it as annoyance rather than curdled amusement. "I didn't surrender to Vader or Tarkin," she replies, and she'd actually been frightened of them. "Why would I surrender to you?"

"This war has taken its toll," he says, and he's not wrong. "You're no longer the bright young princess of Alderaan, inspiring the masses to rebel. Your story is over, Mother. It's my turn now."

"Is it?" She shakes her head. "As long as the First Order tries to rule the galaxy, my work is not done."

"We bring order to chaos." His voice is sharp, controlled. Has he finally learned to rein in his temper? She was never able to teach him that, perhaps because, despite all the years of training she'd had, she'd never quite managed it herself.

"You don't really believe that." She waves a hand dismissively. "You know that tyranny is not strength." 

"Strength?" He huffs a bitter laugh. "You don't know the meaning of strength. You were afraid of how strong I am, so you were always holding me back! Teaching me restraint." His voice is thick with hurt and scorn. "That's why you sent me away!"

She takes a step closer. "Yes, I was afraid, Ben. I was _for_ you, of what Snoke would do to you. And I was right." Another step closer, close enough to touch him for the first time in years, if she just reaches out. "You were afraid too, Ben. You were always so afraid." 

"I killed Snoke." His voice is calm but intense; a crack in his composure.

"And yet, you're still afraid you're not strong enough." She doesn't know where this came from, but she blames Vader as much as Snoke, for somehow passing this strange fear down to her son. "But you never had to be strong, Ben. I only ever wanted you to be safe. I thought Luke would be able to help."

"Luke was weak."

Leia nods. "He could be. Weak and petty and self-involved. We all are to some extent. We're people. But he was also bright and brave and loving. He could always see the best in people."

Ben looks away for a moment, jaw working furiously before he spits, "He saw none of that in me."

"And for that, Ben, I'm sorry."

"Stop calling me that," he yells, composure well and truly gone. "Ben Solo is dead. I killed him."

"Did you?" She finally finds the strength to reach out—her baby's gotten so tall—and drops her hand before she makes contact when he flinches almost imperceptibly. "If there's no spark of him left inside you, then my son is truly dead." She shakes her head again, still unable to come to terms with that thought. "I thought if I actually talked to you, that I could convince you. That this had all been one truly horrible mistake. But it's not, is it?" She has to blink back tears now, and she can see his eyes are bright, as well. "You made a terrible choice, and you keep making it. I can't make it for you, Ben. I guess I needed to learn that." She sighs, her breath trembling in her lungs and her heart aching in her chest. 

She'd carried him beneath her heart for nine months, all her hopes and joys nestled safely in her womb. She feels sick now, as he turns away from all of it, and instead embodies all the fears she'd aggressively dismissed. She swallows down the bitter taste of bile and fear and breathes shallowly until she can speak again. 

"I'm your mother and I will always love you, but I can't save you from this path you've chosen. Only you can do that." They stare at each other for a long moment. "You can come with me now, as Ben Solo, and face trial for all that you've done. Or you can walk away, as Kylo Ren, and the next time we meet, it will be as enemies."

"We're enemies now, Mother!" he shouts. "I know you're not so deluded that you can't see that."

"But we don't have to be." She bites her lip and hesitates for a moment before turning her back on him. If he kills her, so be it. It couldn't possibly hurt more than what she's feeling right now. "You know how to find me," she says over her shoulder. "I hope when you do, it's as a son seeking to join his mother."

She makes herself walk back to her shuttle and lets Artoo take control. It's not until she's in hyperspace that she allows herself to relax, to let the quiver in her shoulders become full-on body-wracking sobs.

Her son is lost, and there's nothing she can do for him but hope that someday, he makes the right choice.


End file.
